Evil Agreement (16 page)

This room was on the seventh floor and had a gorgeous view of
Lake Champlain.

Korie
let Aaron have first dibs on
the bathroom.

She laid out their clothes in the twin dressers. Aaron came
out of the bathroom.

“Your turn,” he said.

“Thanks, I’m going to take a shower and then change clothes.
Maybe we can grab some breakfast after.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll take a shower after you. I worked up
quite a sweat racing that asshole truck.”

Korie
headed into the bathroom and
closed the door. She turned on the overhead heat lamp and room fan. She turned
on the water and began to remove her clothes. In a moment she was standing in
the shower and it felt good, real good.

She had been in the shower for several minutes. The warm
water cascaded down her body. Her entire back muscles felt stiff from the
tension of the morning escape and chase. She turned her back to the showerhead
and let its warm spray caress her achy body.

Aaron sat on the edge of one of the two full size beds. He
was channel surfing when he stopped on the local channel’s morning news. He
turned the volume up.

“This is Brian
Detmer
, a good
friend of the two missing hikers. He’s organized a volunteer search for the two
young hikers that will begin to explore the Long Trail along Vermont Route 100
today. Tell me Brian, have the authorities given you any information that will
help you in your search efforts?”

The young man with a couple days growth of beard wearing a
tee shirt and carrying a backpack responded, “All we know is what has been
already reported. They were last seen hiking on Camel’s Hump. We think they
headed north from there, so we’re going to start at Camel’s Hump and spread out
heading north.”

“Well, Brian, we wish you and the other searchers the best
out there. This is Kathy Brown, reporting live from the base of Camel’s Hump
Mountain on efforts to locate the
missing hikers. Now back to the studio, Mark and Leslie.”

“Thanks, Kathy,” said the young woman sitting behind the television
studio desk as she shuffled her papers. She turned to the male announcer, which
was his signal to speak next.

“As our viewers know, every year several hikers get injured
or lost in Vermont’s woods. We wish the searchers the best, and remind everyone
watching to always let someone know your hiking route, and stick to it.”

“That’s a good tip, Mark. Well, now on the lighter side today
at ...”

Aaron turned the volume down. He could hear the shower
running in the bathroom. He reclined back onto the bed, closing his eyes for a
moment.

After a while, he turned over on his side and looked towards
the window and the rich blue sky beyond. The curtains on the floor to ceiling
window had an intricate pattern to them. The pattern was a sort of pastoral scene.
There were people picking flowers, hoeing in a garden and riding a wagon. His
eyes focused upon a figure of a woman who was working inside of a white picket
fenced in flower garden. She seemed to take on a three dimensional appearance.
He looked closer, sitting up now on the edge of his bed.

The woman was wearing a long dress and a bonnet of the sort
worn in the mid-1800s. She suddenly turned around and looked at Aaron. She was
holding a flower basket filled with freshly cut flowers. This woman seemed to
walk towards Aaron. She appeared to be able to step out of the drapery’s
pattern. She now seemed to be walking in the air. She came closer until she was
standing in the middle of the bed next to the window. She couldn’t be more than
two inches tall. Yet her weight caused a small indention on the beds surface.

“Aaron, don’t be afraid. I’m your great grandmother several
times removed. I’m Sarah Powell.”

“This can’t be happening. It’s some kind of dream. I have a
bad habit lately of having weird dreams,” protested Aaron.

“This is no dream, Aaron. We have been able to speak to you
all along, but there was no need.”

“Who is this, we?”

“All of your ancestors. Your mother, her mother and so on, up
to and including me?”

“I don’t understand,” he offered.

“Oh, we think you do, Aaron. It’s just that you’ve been
blocking your powers. You will learn to use them as we have.”

“But you’re all dead,” he said standing up and pacing in
front of the television.

“Yes, we’re dead.”

“So if you’re dead, then how are you here and where are you
speaking to me from and don’t say those drapes,” he demanded.

“We
Powells
exist in a nether
world. Our bodies have died, but our spirits live on in this in-between world.
We are bound by our blood to fight on to victory over this Dark One who wishes
to take on human form. We can not rest until we defeat him, no matter how many
generations it takes.”

“What does this Dark One want with our family, couldn’t he
find another?”

“Oh, Aaron, you have so much to learn. An evil agreement is a
final covenant. This coven that has pursued our family is in a pact with
Lucifer’s lieutenant Moloch. It is Moloch who must come forth upon earth in
human form to prepare the way for Lucifer.”

“Why?” said Aaron, sitting on the bed once more.

“Because, Lucifer is in a race of sorts. He wants to steal
away the earth and all who inhabit it before the Second Coming.”

“But, but if my memory is right, then Lucifer and this
Moloch’s efforts to return to human form would mark the beginning of
Armageddon.”

The tiny figure bowed her tiny head for a moment, and then
she raised it again. With her apron she dabbed at her left eye and then her
right eye. She was crying.

“Yes, Aaron, Armageddon.”

“But why our family? I mean, shit, that’s a lot to put on us.
Why can’t this happen to some other family?”

“No one knows. We believe that throughout the ages this
battle has been waged ceaselessly with other families. They have won their
battles and now it is our turn.”

“It’s not fair,” he protested.

“It is what it is, and we must accept our fate. We must not
fail.” The tiny figure of Sarah Powell turned and headed back towards the
curtain.

“Wait, wait I need to know more.”

Turning she said, “In time, Aaron, in time. Those missing
hikers—they’re dead. The coven killed them. Now this coven has a new leader,
and he’s the most powerful yet.”

With those final words the figure now was standing in its
place on the drapes. The tiny figure that revealed herself as Sarah Powell
turned her back to Aaron and became part of the tapestry as before.

“Who were you talking to?” said
Korie
,
who was now standing in the room with one towel wrapped around her head and
another barely wrapped around her torso.

“You’re not going to believe me.”

19

Reverend Mitchell hasn’t been able to sleep. He has spent the
night and early morning hours pacing the floor in his office. He is bitter and
angry that Moloch has deposed him for the novice, Samuel.

For the umpteenth time, he curses his fate.

“I have been loyal. I’ve sacrificed everything for him and
this is the thanks I get. Son of a bitch.”

He slams his right fist hard into his left palm, with a
smacking sound.

“That Samuel had better not fuck up, no
sireee
.”

The Reverend’s dark side partner was the devil,
Zeeka
.
Zeeka
was a devil that had
made a habit of partnering with some of human histories worst and most
notorious. He rode with Attila the Hun, as his trusted advisor. He traveled
with Rasputin, as a dim-witted companion. He also was a whispered confidant to
Goebbels
, whom history knows had great influence over
Hitler.
Zeeka
, with a whisper, could do more damage
than a sword, an arrow or a gun.
Zeeka
was furious as
well.

The Reverend and
Zeeka
worked each
other into a fury that each had never tasted before. Both had been slighted,
seemingly cast aside, in favor of one who had not earned the right to play
center stage at what was promising to be one of the greatest events in human
history. Together they both yearned to regain their rightful place.

“I’ll watch and wait. All I need is one fucking mistake on
his part and I will claim my rightful place. Lucifer himself will give it to
me. Fucking Samuel Porter, Fucking Moloch,” said Reverend Mitchell (or was it
Zeeka
?).

The truck driver waited until the State Police car had pulled
away before he used his cell phone. He dialed a number and waited.

“Hello Ed, this is the Road Warrior. I was just following
that Massachusetts tag you told
me to be on the lookout for.”

“So, what’s up, Road Warrior?”

“I was tracking him as he headed up I-89 towards Burlington.
The son of bitch topped out at over a hundred miles per hour. I got pulled over
by a State Smokey. Picked up a ticket for speeding, anyway, he’s probably in Burlington
or beyond by now. Oh, and Ed, he had a woman with him, riding shotgun.”

“Thanks for your help, Road Warrior. Got the name of the
Officer who ticketed you?”

“Sure do, his name is Ed Garrett.”

“I’ll fix your ticket.”

“Thanks. Any word on my daughter?”

“Not yet, but I’ve got a friend of mine in the Atlanta Office
who is working the case. I’ll give him a call after we hang up. If there is any
news, I’ll get back to you.”

“Thanks again, Ed.”

“Don’t mention it. Bye.”

Before Ed called his FBI buddy in the Atlanta Office, he
called his friend in the Burlington Police Department. They spoke for a couple
of minutes. Ed was calling in a favor. He needed some help locating a certain
car bearing Massachusetts tags
and its occupants, a male and female. What he needed, he explained, was some
quiet help. No heavy police presence, just a helpful tip on where to find the
car and its passengers.

His Burlington Police contact agreed to put some manpower on
it right away. Ed got the man his job and his ongoing recommendations had
helped propel the man’s career. He looked up to Ed as a mentor.

Next, Ed called his FBI
Academy roommate, the current head
of the Atlanta Office.

“Gary, Ed here. How’s the low life?”

“You know same old, same old. Ed, I know you’re calling about
that Vermont kid who’s a run
away. Well, I’ve got some good news. We located her and her ATM robbing
boyfriend. I was just about to give you a call. It seems that her alleged boy
friend has managed to pile up a heap of charges in a short time. Anyway, my men
got a tip that he was planning to rob a drive in bank on Mohammed Ali
Boulevard. We put some of our people inside and outside. We nabbed him
yesterday afternoon. Unfortunately, he put up a struggle resisting arrest and
managed to get both arms broken.”

“My heart bleeds.”

“Yeah, mine too. Well the girl was sitting in the getaway
car, parked around the corner from the bank. She’s okay except for one thing,
Ed.”

“What’s that?”

“She’s pregnant. She keeps crying. Says she wants an
abortion.”

“Gary, could you
fix her up with a plane ticket? If you can, please fly her to Burlington,
Vermont. Her dad and I will meet her at the
airport. I’ll break the news to him before she gets in. Just call me with the
flight time. Now, let me give you my charge card number for her ticket, and
thanks for all the assistance too.”

“Forget it Ed, this one’s on me. I’ll be back to you in a few
minutes with that flight info. Take care of yourself.”

“You know that I do, so long.”

With that, he hung up his phone. He had to meet with Samuel
soon and he wasn’t looking forward to the experience. He would give his
Burlington source a couple of hours, after which he would set up a meeting with
Samuel to brief him on his progress or lack of it, whatever the case may
be.
 

***

“You were talking to who?” said
Korie
.

“I just told you, I believe I just had contact with someone
from the other side. Like I said, I was talking with my great grandmother
several generations back. It was Sarah Powell.”

Korie
sat down on the bed, still
clutching the bath towel wrapped around her torso.

“Is this the first time this has happened?” asked
Korie
.

“I’m not really sure. I’ve had dreams before where I thought
I was having a conversation. But these dreams always seemed to occur at night.
They seemed to be ordinary, that’s all. This one just happened during the
daytime.”

“You’re going to have to tell me more. Start by telling me
about the first dream you had that was connected to this Powell legend.”

The only dream Aaron could recall in any detail was the dream
he had about the altar and the young girl, the coven members, and of course the
knife, which seemed to be alive with the tiny bodies of his ancestors. He
described the dream as best as he could recall.
Korie
had several questions, some of which he could answer, others he could not.

He next described his most recent encounter where Sarah
Powell seemed to come alive and walk right off the fabric of the hotel room
drape. Since this daydream had just taken place, Aaron’s account was more
detailed.
Korie
asked no questions this time, she
just listened.

“That’s some dream. I’m no expert on this sort of thing, I
mean, who is, right? It sure sounds like your ancestors are trying to help you
somehow. I wonder if you can control these conversations. You know, like call
them up and have a discussion.”

“I never thought about that. Maybe!”

“Why don’t you try?”

“Right now?”

“Sure, now, while I’m right here.”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know? Aaron, for crying out
loud, if they are trying to speak to you, maybe they can help somehow. It’s worth
the try, isn’t it?”

“But what if it doesn’t work? Maybe my dreams are some sort
of psychotic event. They lock people up for that sort of thing.”

“Aaron, they don’t lock people up for that sort of thing
anymore. At least I don’t think they do.”

“Well, that’s reassuring.”

“I was just kidding. Now come over here and sit on this bed.
It will take me a minute to slip on some clothes, and then we can give it a
try.”

Aaron came over and sat on the bed nearest to the window.

Korie
meanwhile put on some cutoff
shorts and a tee shirt decorated with the slogan “Don’t Ask Me, I Just Work
Here.”

“Okay, let’s start,” said
Korie
.

“How?”

“Well, I’d say just look again at that drapery and let your
mind go.”

“All right, here goes,” said Aaron with a sigh.

Korie
knelt up on the bed and began
to massage his neck and shoulders. Her fingers pressed down against his muscles
as she worked to try and get Aaron to fully relax.

Aaron stared at the drapery for several minutes. Nothing
seemed to happen. He scanned the pattern over and over again, nothing. Aaron
felt very tired and closed his eyes for what seemed was just a moment. When he
opened his eyes again, he was no longer sitting on the bed, but was instead
sitting in one of his aunt’s overstuffed chairs. He was back in time when he
was only ten years old. His mother, who at that time he believed her to be his
aunt, was massaging his neck and shoulders. She was humming a song that Aaron
recognized as familiar even though he could not name the tune itself.

“Hmm, Hmm, hmm......hmm. Now doesn’t that feel better Aaron?”

“Yes, it does,” he answered.

“You took a nasty fall out of that cherry tree over at Mrs.
Kopecke’s
house. Now Aaron, you know better than to go and
climb trees and steal cherries from our neighbor.”

“But I asked permission first.”

“Aaron, Mrs.
Kopecke
told me she
had agreed that you could pick all the cherries that you could reach from the
ground, not from up in her tree.”

“I’m sorry.”

Aaron paused and turned around and looked at his Aunt and
said, “You’re really my mother, aren’t you?”

With a smile, she answered, “Yes, but you already knew that.”

“I don’t seem to understand everything that’s going on. A
while ago I dreamed that I had talked to Sarah Powell. I suppose you know about
that?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.”

“Then why am I having these dreams?”

“Think, Aaron.”

Aaron paused and reflected on this turn around gambit.

“Is it because you’ve come to help me?”

“We can’t stop Moloch. Only you can do that.”

“But you can help me somehow, is that it?”

“We can only share our knowledge. Our powers are no longer of
your world.”

“Powers, what powers?”

“Aaron, please!”

“I get it. I must have powers like this ability to talk to
you and Sarah Powell. Am I right?” he asked eagerly.

“Aaron you have much, much more.”

“Like what?”

“You must find this out for yourself. Now I must go.”

“Wait, give me a hint.”

“I’m sorry,” she said as her image began to fade.

“Can you give me a sign so that my friend
Korie
will believe me?”

The faint image seemed to nod as it disappeared altogether.
Aaron opened his eyes and he was lying on his back on the bed nearest to the
window.
Korie
was sitting on the adjacent bed.

“What happened?” asked Aaron.

“Well, from my vantage point, I’d say you had a dream about
your mother, because you were talking to her.”

“Did you hear her talk to me?”

“Of course not, all I heard was your side of what was
obviously a two way conversation.”

“She agreed to give us a sign that my contacts are real.”

“What sign?”

“She didn’t tell me that part.”

“Okay. Well, I didn’t see anything move in here. Maybe this
sign will show up later.”

“No, it’s already here, I’m certain of that.”

Aaron got up from the bed and walked around the room and the
bathroom looking for an unknown sign.
Korie
did
likewise. After several minutes, they both gave up and sat back down on the bed
farthest from the window.

“It’s here, I just know it,” said a determined Aaron.

Glancing at the bed nearest to the window, he noticed there
was something under the bed covers in the center of the bed.

“That’s it,” he said as he sprang up from the bed and began
to pull the bed’s covers back.

There, in the center of the bed, was a small wallet of the
sort that children have made for generations. It was a small child-size, hand
stitched, brown leather wallet. Aaron picked up the wallet.

“It’s mine,” he murmured.

Korie
watched as he opened the
wallet. Inside of the wallet was a standard printed identification card with
Aaron’s name and address written in a child like handwriting.

“Look, I wrote my name inside.”

Aaron lifted the identification card and peered behind it. He
noticed something and began to carefully remove a small photograph.

Aaron looked at the photo and a tear welled up in his eye,
and ran down his left cheek.
                 

“It’s me and my mother.”

He showed the photo to
Korie
who by
now was absolutely dumbfounded by the appearance of what seemed certain to be
Aaron’s childhood wallet.

Korie
could only respond, “She’s
beautiful.”

Korie
kissed his cheek on the spot that
the tear had just traveled. His skin was hot, as if he had a fever.

“I have powers. My mother said I have special powers.”

“Well, what do we do now?” asked
Korie
.

“I have to read my family’s diary cover to cover. There has
to be something, some kind of message hidden in those old stories.”

The two of them began to read the Powell Family diary out
loud to one another, each taking turns when the other grew tired.

 
***

Samuel’s sister Kelly, nearly fifteen years old, had been
living in absolute terror since that first night when her brother returned home
from his initiation with the coven.

She had nightmares every night. The same evil creature
threatened her in her dreams, night after night. Kelley was not getting much
sleep. Her nerves were worn threadbare by the nightly terrors that were visited
upon her. She avoided the bathroom at night. She showered only during the
daytime. Her closet seemed to have become the home for another creature from
hell. She was sure that another hellish creature had recently taken up
residency under her bed. She could not, dare not, speak of these fears with her
parents. They had become her brother’s cheerleaders.